Heads or Tails
by JustBlossom
Summary: To close the tear between the worlds, a blood sacrifice must be made. But one cannot simply step through the veil—a blade must take Arthur's life while he lays upon the altar. Only then will the Cailleach be satisfied. The Darkest Hour 4x02 alternate ending. Gen. Here there be angst.


A/N: Hello Merlin fandom! I kind of fell in love with Merlin two years ago, began copious amounts of fanfic and never posted any of them. Well, I also didn't really finish any of them (I'm the worst at finishing anything in general) I still love Merlin though, and since I've read so much fanfic (heh) I figured I might as well post up some of the stuff that's rotting away on my hard drive so maybe someone can enjoy it.

That said, this piece is a little dark and probably not my best, but hey, at least it's finished. ;) I promise more happiness and (manly) hugs in future!

_Heads or Tails_

The knife was cold in Merlin's hands. Hard. And unbearably heavy, as though the blade bore a great weight, one that he could not hope to lift.

"I can't—I won't—Arthur, you can't ask that of me!"

"It's the only way," Arthur's voice sounded steady, but after so many years, Merlin caught the vestiges of pain that laced through it. He put a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I don't want this—but please, Merlin . . . you're the only one who can."

"No." Merlin wanted to drop the knife, to cast it aside, but no matter how he willed his fingers to unclench, they remained firmly wrapped around the hilt. When Arthur had pressed the weapon into his hands, he'd had no idea . . .

"I'm asking you to follow orders, Merlin. Can you do that for once in your life?" Arthur tried to adopt his usual condescending tone, forcing a wry smile, but Merlin could not return it.

"No." He was breathing heavily. "I—I won't do this. Anything else, Arthur. But not this. _Anything_ but this."

"Merlin—"

"I _can't kill you, Arthur!" _

"But—"

"Would you do the same to me?"

Arthur's mouth closed abruptly.

"Would you kill me, if I asked it of you?"

"Well, I—if you . . . under the circumstances— if it was what . . . what you wanted—if it was the only way, then-"

"Then do it." Merlin thrust out his arm, the proffered blade gleaming wickedly. "One of us has to die. . . it might as well be me."

Arthur's eyes grew wide, almost as though he were seeing the knife, and the damage it could do, the lives it could end, for the very first time.

"The life of a servant is worthless compared to that of a king."

"Merlin—you know good servants are hard to come by these days—"

"Cut it out, Arthur, you know that's not true." His voice felt cold, even to him. "You could replace me in a heartbeat, but Camelot can never replace you."

"I won't let you die! It's my choice, my sacrifice-"

"If it makes you feel better, we can flip a coin over it." He laughed bitterly. Neither would win— whoever did not die would have to kill the other. Which end of the blade was the worst to be on?

"_I_ won't kill you, Merlin!"

"Then how can you expect me to do that to you?" He stepped forward, a strange fury growing within him. A determination. He would not let this happen—if their destiny, their friendship, meant anything at all—he would not kill his prince. Arthur's face darkened with equal anger. He did not back down.

"Because I'm the _king! _It's my duty to protect the people of Camelot—with my life! I will make whatever sacrifice is necessary! You have to understand, Merlin." He slumped suddenly, the anger leaving him. "I cannot let anyone take my place. It is my sacrifice to make, and I make it willingly."

He grasped Merlin's arm again, leading him toward the altar, and this time Merlin didn't resist. The anger he'd felt seemed to have left him as soon as Arthur's had, leaving him hollow. Despair coated his mind and heart with a thick blackness like ink. Arthur let go of his arm and he stopped, feeling stiff in every motion. He watched as Arthur lay down on the altar, his expression hard as the rock itself. His hands clasped a sword, just as a knight's body prepared for a funeral, and when he closed his eyes Merlin felt his own sting with tears.

"Arthur—"

"Merlin, my friend. Please."

He could barely meet Arthur's gaze. He raised his eyes. The Cailleach stood, eerily silent, across the altar.

"It is fate," she rasped.

Merlin raised the knife, shaking. Destiny really was a troublesome thing, he realized. He'd been told to protect Arthur, that they would build the future together. Now one of them had to die. One side of the coin erased. _Heads or tails, _he mused.

And he turned the blade upon himself.


End file.
